9 Meets Disney
by HamPickleSandwich
Summary: A series of oneshots in which the 9 crew become characters of various Disney movies. Pairings are mostly 9/7. Open to requests.
1. Beauty and The Beast  1

_**I'll start off by saying I am quite sure that I am not the first person to ever write a 9/Disney crossover... but I'm hoping that it may make up for not updating The Apartment sooner. I just can't seem to write anything for it at the moment. But this is just a very casual series of pieces of 9 characters in scenes from Disney movies. For each I'll provide a bit of background information about how things are - cause, y'know, it would just be kinda lame if you had stitchpunks and everything else was human. Oh, and I may as well say now that most of them will be 9/7 (my OTP)... but I can do a different pairing if requested. As usual I don't own anything that I use in my fanfictions.**_

**For Beauty and the Beast, there is a small community of stitchpunks living in a clearing in the Emptiness where a village has been made. On the edge of the village the ageing inventor 2 lives with his daughter, 7, where they are made fun of. 2's inventions are mostly foolish and never work, while 7 is a bit of a tomboy and enjoys reading over consorting with 8, the most respected (read, attractive, 8 is more muscly than poofy here) member of the community.**__

**When 2 finally manages to invent something usual he decides to travel to the next community, where there are other known inventors. However, while he travels in the dangerous area of the Emptiness he is chased by a group of Cat Beasts which roam the area (in this 'universe' Cat Beasts are easily defeated if own their own but deadly in a group) until he finds a castle, which is the home of a mechanical Beast.**

**I don't really have a description of what Beast!9 looks like, but I plan to do a few more Beauty and the Beast ones so hopefully I'll have sketched something out by then. For now, happy reading!**

* * *

><p>Getting rid of the small clock and candlestick were easy enough to do. 7 smiled to herself as she watched the pair dance off down the hallway, towards their library, which apparently had books of all sorts. She decided she must explore that later – but for now, she had rules to break.<p>

She'd always wondered what she would do if she were ever kept a prisoner like this; but never in her whole life had she imagined that her captor would be a Machine... a Beast. Crazier yet, she never imagined that he would seem so – so _petty_ about things. Inside he was a child; she could hear that in his demands for her to join him to dinner. If he was going to be such an irritating being then he was not worth her time. The household objects that were practically human, however, had thus far proved to be a lot better company, though the clock definitely had some issues. Perhaps they related to his lack of a left eye.

It was this sort of thinking that carried her down into the forbidden wing of the castle. The West Wing was a little bit like the rest of the castle at first, gloomy, foreboding... but as she walked on she began to notice that the statues were malformed, their limbs or faces smashed off. Come to think of it, the face on every statue that would have looked remotely human was marred with gashes. The walls had claw marks running down, as if someone with talons had stretched their arms out and dragged their claws along the walls – mindless destruction ruled here, where anger was the only principle that mattered. It seemed to be dustier than the rest of the castle, as if not even the many feather dusters and brooms dared to enter this dreadful place.

Finally she came to the end of the hall, where two huge doors loomed over her, the brass handles seeming the glare at her with hatred. She glanced behind her to check she hadn't been followed before she carefully pushed the door open. She did not once consider that she had entered the very lion's den of the whole castle – what was once a master bedroom was now the Beast's lair.

The room, in a word, was trashed. Wooden splinters had been hastily swept to the sides of the room, perhaps with tiny brass hands that could only have belonged to a candlestick or a clock. In wandering about the room she nearly knocked over a small table, so dark the room was. The table was one of very few articles of furniture that actually remained intact from what must have been the result of many a tantrum. Usually she would have rolled her eyes and left by now, fed up with the evidence of the Beast's childishness – but there was an aura about the room that captured her. She ventured further into the room, past a broken pile of wood and furs, arranged so with a canopy to suggest that it was once a bed. She gave it one critical glance before something else caught her attention.

On the wall opposite was a framed portrait. At least, it was a portrait. Half of the subject of the portrait hung down in tatters – as if the Beast had wanted to destroy the face of the portrait. From what she could see, it was the face of a stitchpunk. On further inspection the skin was burlap (lifting a fold of the canvas she could see a zipper beneath the shirt the man wore); but what grabbed her attention most was the pair of eyes that remained intact upon the painting. She recognised those eyes – but how? Where had she seen those eyes before?

Just before she could put her finger on it, she noticed a green glow coming from the direction of the window. Abandoning her current conundrum, she attended to the source of the light. Underneath a glass bell-like jar was a talisman, opened so it gave the appearance of a flower. She recalled once asking her father for a talisman such as this one – but this one seemed different. The glow was warm, inviting - magic. As if she were hypnotised by the object within the jar before her, she slowly lifted the jar off it. She peered at the object before her with care, putting the bell jar on the ground beside her and reaching out to touch it... just to hold it for a moment...

A shadow appeared. The Beast appeared at the window. She had been caught.

"_What are you doing here?_" he snarled, jumping in front of the glowing talisman and replacing the lid. She jumped back.

"I-I was just looking!" she stammered. He stormed towards her menacingly.

"_I told you to never come to this place!_" he growled, his voice rising into a threatening crescendo.

"I didn't mean any harm!" she tried, but her voice was deafened by his roar.

"_GET OUT! GET OUT!" _

And so she ran.


	2. The Lion King 1

_**I stayed up for a fair chunk of time last night to get this written down, and I hope you guys like it. I have to make an explanation about the ending, because it's a little up to interpretation. You can either say that '7 belonging to 9' is symbolic in reference to their love, or you can say that they were being a bit more... passionate than first intended. It's your choice - whenever I imagined 9 and 7 in this universe I imagined that in this evening they would be each other's 'firsts'.. because my head is very enthusiastic about this pairing and imagines they don't really have any inhibitions around each other when they realise their love is mutual. Last thing: DON'T OWN ANYTHING, NOT AWESOME ENOUGH TO.**_

__**Quite simply, this is The Lion King, in the scenes leading up to and the 'Can You Feel the Love Tonight' sequence. Here you have 9 as the young 'prince' born to coven leader 2. Here it mostly follows to plot of the film, except instead of the Pridelands it's the Emptiness, and the Elephant Graveyard is the Factory, only here the Factory is 1's secretish lair. In this 'universe' Machines are like lower animals on the food chain, but instead of eating them like lions do they hunt them mostly for their skins and their oil (blood), used for necessary purposes. **

**Here 6 and 8 are replacing Timon and Pumbaa. Basically they are runaway stitchpunks from different covens. Runaways are typically the lowest subordinates of any clan - 8 wasn't exactly the brightest stitchpunk, and poor little 6 just didn't fit in. They rescue stitchpup 9 from a Machine attack, and took him to their home - a place where there is plantlife, and even an extremely rare water pool. Because vagabonds don't belong to any coven nobody really kicks up a fuss if they're needed to give their 'supplies' to desperate groups.**

**I'm sure that I was going to say a lot more cause I practically have an entire timeline for 9 and Lion King but... nope, don't think I have anything else to say, so happy reading!**

* * *

><p>She didn't like doing this to another being, but the coven was desperate. They needed supplies and lately, they had only been able to get them from Machines and subordinates. It wasn't like she was going to <em>kill<em> him; she only needed some oil and perhaps some wires and gears. If she thought of him as a Machine it was much easier to take what she needed. So, for those reasons, it was easy to chase him as he ran through the undergrowth, screaming for help. After a time he was cornered, his leg tangled in protruding debris while his friend pointlessly tugged on his arm to pull him out. Used to this, she stalked forward, blade held high, her helmet over her face.

Just as she was about to make the first swing, a shadow fell upon her. A new opponent appeared in front of her; also helmeted; also armed. Immediately the figure began to fight, his roaring war cry betraying his identity as male. It wasn't long before she realised they were evenly matched.

As they scuffled in the clearing, she began to notice familiar things about her adversary. The way he seemed to carry himself indicated that he was hiding his nobility, as if he was trying to act like a common stitchpunk – he was not always a vagabond subordinate, like her prey. She quickly parried his thrusts (his attacks were also familiar, she had parried those exact same thrusts before, but from whom?) before deftly disarming the male. He reached forward to take her neck (another mistake she knew well) – but she was too quick for him this time. Before either of them knew what was going on, she had him on the ground, her knees forcing his elbows into the ground. Both of their helmets had fallen off from the quick pace of this movement. Suddenly, the expression on the male's face changed – what had been defensive rage became confusion, then recognition.

"...7?" he asked. But the voice she heard... couldn't possibly belong to him. He was dead.

_Wasn't he?_

"Who are you?" she snapped accusingly – though the way she scrambled away from him surely did not look at all threatening. He looked at her, really looked at her, pleading for her to recognise him.

"7... 7, it's me. It's 9." he replied, giving his zipper a light tug. _He always did that when he was young._

7 hadn't seen 9 in years. The last time they were together it was probably when they were walking in a dark field with 5 and his father, after they had nearly been taken by the Machines. And shortly before that incident they had been playfully sparring, where 9 had gone to grab her neck and she had pinned him to the ground and he had tugged on his zipper in that way that this male was doing right now – _it was him! _

"OH MY CREATOR!" was the first thing she cried, followed by a series of happy squeals. He responded similarly jumping up and nearly crushing her with his strong embrace. She blinked in her ecstasy, wondering if he ever smelt that good to her when she was younger. As they took each other in happily, she noticed that he had grown attractive in the years they had been separated – what did he think of her, now she was an adult?

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?" somebody yelled suddenly, making the two friends become quiet. 9 looked towards the small striped stitchpunk, as if it were unusual for him to be so verbal. She waited patiently for 9 to introduce her, as she had been taught growing up. Not that etiquette mattered – _9 was alive. _

"Well, 6, this is 7 – my girl – friend! She is my friend! We're best friends." he said, smiling in that goofy way he always had. She hadn't noticed his mistake. Apparently the striped one hadn't either.

"But... she wants to kill 8." he said flatly. The big stitchpunk, obviously 8, joined the introductions.

"Ain't you gonna introduce me?" he rumbled. 9 obliged quickly.

"8, this is my friend 7. 7 – This is 8 and 6." he replied, gesturing to the appropriate person as he introduced them all. 7, looking at 9, marvelled over the simple fact that he still existed.

"Everyone's going to be so excited to hear you're ok! Especially your mother – imagine what she'd say if she knew!" she exclaimed, touching his arm. 9's expression darkened a little.

"No. Nobody needs to know I'm here." he replied firmly. 7 became confused.

"But... what about the coven? 2 is gone, now – that means you're the rightful leader! The king!" she said. _Please. Come home with me._

"That isn't right. He's not a king!" 6 interjected. "...Are you?" he asked 9.

"You're actually a king? Really, a coven leader?" 8 asked excitedly. To both these questions, 9 shook his head. This affirmation made it clear to 7 that the once proud prince had changed. Why didn't he want to be king anymore? _Stop it – _she thought. _It's been years. Of course he's changed._ With that thought she remembered why this occasion was so momentous.

She remembered hiding behind her mother's leg, weeping for the loss of their previous leader, the wise and kind 2. That had been bad enough. But to hear of the loss of his son, her best friend 9 – it had been too much back then. It was almost too much now. She walked away from the group, not sure where to look. How was she going to deal with her friend, now she knew that he was alive?

"What's wrong, 7?" 9 asked, putting his hand on her shoulder. She didn't look him in the eye.

"It's like... well. You were dead. We all thought you were dead. It's what 1 told us. And now you're back from the grave," she tried to explain. Releasing inhibitions, she turned into his arms, embracing him. He returned her show of unfamiliar affection. Suddenly she wanted to be away from this place. More specifically, she wanted to be alone with 9. As if in a dream, they floated off together, 9 brushing off protests sent his way by his friends.

He led her in silence to a beautiful oasis. Here the Emptiness finished and Nature began, where rocks formed together to form a small waterfall, and the water pooled together in a small lake-like formation. Giving her a sly look, he dived within its depths, disappearing beneath the rippling surface. She wondered why he seemed to want to play with her, rather than talk – but before she herself could say anything, she found herself being yanked into the water. She fell in with a squeal, unused to diving into water pools like this. 7 crawled out before she drowned while 9 laughed at her from a rock – though he did not continue when she pulled him back in while she ascended the bank. Doing what she did best, she began to run away. She hoped he would follow her.

Chase her he did, trying to run around her and catch her as she dodged his long reaching arms. She was too quick for him, her canvas skin slipping from his embrace. Her tribal clothes sent droplets flicking everywhere as she span around, searching for him. He was nowhere to be seen. She backed up behind her, not knowing that the natural undergrowth would give way to a steep slope. Suddenly he charged at her playfully, pretending to attack her – but instead tripping over his own feet and sending them both rolling down the slope. The world was a haze of colour and rapid heartbeats.

When they finally stopped she found herself with her back on the ground, half of his body caressing hers by complete accident. He began to back away, his face apologetic. Suddenly, though, it occurred to her what had been on her mind since she had pinned him to the ground with her trademark straddle. She had been a goner once he gave that goofy smile. And he gave it now... that smile was for her. Somehow, she would make sure she owned that smile. And she did.

She kissed him from where she was, not caring what he thought, not caring what anyone else thought. Her mind was blank with nothing but the way that goofy smile became wider. From then that one kiss became two, then three.

From then on, no matter what anyone else thought, she was his. They had certainly proved that, in the evening on the soft Nature floor.


	3. Bambi 1

_**HEY 9 FANS! I'm really incredibly sorry I haven't uploaded anything for this fandom lately... it's just I have not had a single iota of inspiration since my last 9 update. I decided I'd wrap up this short little thing, which I do apologise for it being so short. In case you're not quite sure what scene this is it's pretty much the very scene in which Bambi meets Faline for the first time. Oh yeah, by the way, thanks to everyone who has sent me all of those requests! I'll try my best to do all of them :) On with the show! -HPS**_

* * *

><p>The young prince was always eager to venture out into the Emptiness with Mother. There were always new words to learn, new people to meet, and new hideaways to explore. He was still a fairly new pup – the last pup to have been born into the coven – and for this reason he was eager to catch up with his friends in how knowledgeable they were about the world. 5 had already introduced him to many new concepts, including another of his close friends. 6, affectionately known as Flower by the young prince; had shyly introduced himself when they found him drawing in the soil. His unusual 'hair' had given him the appearance of a flower among the rare foliage that 5 had shown him.<p>

But no matter. Neither of his close friends were there to watch him look at the puddle of the strange substance that Mother was bottling carefully, chatting to a friend of hers. So he would just follow the trail of the black sticky substance by himself down the stream that it had made. The walk wasn't that far from his mother... just into that nook there; and he had found the source of the strange river of substance. A large round thing had dripped a lot of it – his kind had made use of it, creating a channel for it to flow down as it leaked. Of course, being so young, he hardly noticed this; instead gazing curiously at the face that looked up at him with the same emotion. After a moment's thought he confirmed that this was indeed his face. The other face was white, anyway, and –

The other face? 9 jumped back with a start.

He looked up, finding the face attached to the body of a pup about his age. She grinned cheekily, waving her fingers in a funny girly way.

"Hello, 9." she said. And then she was gone. He looked around wildly, for the other pup, but he could hear nothing. He sighed, happy to continue exploring. But there was a rustle – and she was there, too close - ! Before he could comprehend what had just happened he was in the sludge. She was gone again, back again, gone again – it was frustrating.

Those were his first kisses – but, really, he was going to have no part of it. So, as prince-like as he could manage, he stomped off to Mother, and huffed by her leg. But Mother laughed at him and he only felt silly, covered in the tar-like substance.

The little witch appeared again and he added dust to the substances that he was coated in.

"Say hello to 7, dear." Mother murmured, betraying him again.

He wouldn't dare give this girl the satisfaction of hearing his voice.

"...Hullo." he grumbled.

The girl twittered playfully, her giggles ringing like a bell.


	4. Tangled 1

_**Yes, it's true, I've actually updated! I dunno what else to tell you. I'm at university now - kinda weird, considering I started writing when I was about 14. I hope you all think I've come as far as I think I have! Unfortunately, this is only short, but this one will also have companion pieces.**_

**There isn't really any backstory I've made up to go along with this - I was requested to do this as a role/gender swap. Basically 7 is a girl in basic form but she poses as a man. It's more or less medieval times in Tangled, there would be a little sexism going on, I assume. The masses of hair are braided here as classically depicted, but this will be addressed later on. **

* * *

><p>She ran as fast as she could, barely containing the satisfied snickers of success under her breath as she ducked through the bushes away from the unsuspecting Cat Beast. It was clever, she gave it that, but not clever enough for her, the most notorious (and handsome) thief in the land. The tiara in her bag would give her a lot of money, once she sold it. <em>If<em> _she sold it_, she thought, laughing again. She might walk and fight as a man, but she could not deny herself the occasional feminine pleasure of a pretty thing.

Suddenly, she noticed, the bushes had not led to further expanses of forest as she had expected; but opened to a small cave with a wide opening just a short way away. The entering sunlight gave way to a spacious glade playing host to a tall, lonely tower. 7 cringed at the faint growling of the Beast in the background, tiptoeing across the grass towards her new temporary hideout. It was perfect.

It was easy enough to climb, she supposed, shucking her climbing apparatus in the mortar between the bricks. She was out of breath by the time she finally reached the window, but it was a win. The tower was empty, but from the look of it, would be very comfortable. Finally, she was alone.

At least, until she was hit on the head.

* * *

><p>She had come to, tied up in a wooden arm chair in the centre of the room. A narrow beam of light shone down, hiding her captor from sight but not their hiding place.<p>

"Struggling is pointless!" came the (unnecessary) panicked shout from her captor. 7 rolled her eyes.

"If you didn't notice," she deadpanned, wriggling her tightly bound wrists for emphasis, "I'm not exactly in a position to struggle." An awkward silence followed as her captor seemingly considered this. As they shuffled, 7 could feel movement in her ropes. For the first time, she assessed her situation. She was bound by the wrists, ankles, and around her waist by fine threads braided into a thick, golden plait. But the end of the braid curled away from her chair into the shadows.

"Who are you?! How did you find my tower?!" her captor suddenly snapped. It all clicked.

"Is this... your hair?!" 7 yelped back. How long was it? How on earth did they manage this feat with _hair?_ In response, a foot emerged into the thin sunlight, followed by a leg, a torso... followed by the most beautiful face she had ever seen.

"Who are you?!" he asked again, his eyes narrowing behind the wispy golden threads falling around his face.

Suddenly, 7 found herself wishing that she wasn't pretending to be a man.


End file.
